


The Name on His Arm

by Paladinn



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paladinn/pseuds/Paladinn
Summary: Anders dreamed of finding the person whose name he had on his arm.





	The Name on His Arm

            His first crush had been before the mark appeared. On a young girl, before he’d found out he was a mage, that he knew through his parents. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember anything about her now, other than that she existed, and that he had used to stare at his arm at night, hoping that when a name finally appeared on his arm it would be hers.

            His second crush was on another mage he had known in the circle. He had just hit puberty and a name finally appeared on his arm. It wasn’t the same name as the mage, but he didn’t care about binding things like that, and continued on. He became involved, eventually, with him, Karl. Despite him trying always to escape the Circle, alone, he always told himself he’d come back for him.

            On one escape attempt, he met the Hero of Fereldan and joined the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Yet, none of them shared the name that was left on his arm. He challenged them, claiming that, perhaps, they were lying about their name. Of course, nothing came of it. The Hero of Fereldan offered help, but hadn’t heard of anyone by that name during all their travels. He began to lose hope that he wouldn’t find the person with the name on his arm, and began to find happiness involved in Karl, when he could see him.

            He knew that no one would have been able to tell that it was him if it was on their arm, anyways, because no one besides for him knew his real name. His parents were long gone and the name he was given at the Circle by the templars had stuck. He would know the person when he met them, and that was enough for him.

            When he escaped to Kirkwall, he regained some hope that he might find the person there. After all, if they couldn’t be found in Fereldan, perhaps they could be found in the Free Marches. He opened his clinic and checked the names of his patients. He hoped that maybe, perhaps, one of them shared the name etched onto his arm. But they always had someone else on theirs.

            When the rough fellow apostate came in, followed by a city guard, a beardless dwarf, and his younger brother, he was disappointed, as always, to find out that they didn’t have the same name as the one on his arm. The fellow apostate was never called by his first name, so when he finally interrogated him about it, he continued to be disappointed that the name wasn’t it.

            Had Karl not been turned into a tranquil, he would have continued to look. But, after losing the only person he had been allowed to love, he lost any remaining hope that he would ever find that person. He stopped checking the names of the people who checked into his clinic, and he accepted everything for what it was.

            He joined the ranks of Hawke, the fellow apostate, who he found handsome and who he was grateful towards for trying to help him save Karl. He got along well with the dwarf, who shared his sense of humor. The younger brother was cold, and joined the ranks of the templars when Hawke had returned from his expedition to get rich. The city guard was intimidating, but fun to mess with. One of the elves was too innocent and trusting, and the other hated all mages alike, except for Hawke. He got along well with the pirate, a figure from his past, surprisingly.

            Years passed, and he lived increasingly unhappily. All he could focus on was the injustices done to mages, and was revolted by Fenris and Aveline, who cared little of their plight. Merrill was too ignorant, naïve… Hawke and Isabela understood. Finding that person, his soulmate, became lower and lower on his list of priorities. He would have forgotten it had he not seen the name etched into his skin every time he had woken up.

            He accompanied his companions, Hawke, the dwarf – Varric, and the ever-broody mage hating elf – Fenris, on a trip of Fenris’s, to find his sister. That was the first time he had ever heard the name spoken aloud. Leto. Fenris’s real name. Leto. He hadn’t even been sure if was a man’s or woman’s name, but the elf he had despised and who had despised him was the one who had it. Leto.

            He confronted Fenris about it the next day. His real name. Leto. The one on his wrist. He was disgusted, shocked, and his stomach felt knotted up.

            “The name on mine… isn’t yours, however,” Fenris had responded. It wasn’t unheard of for that to happen – though it was rare.

            Anders grabbed Fenris’s arm and looked at his already-tattoed skin for the name.

            It was him. The name he hadn’t heard spoken in years. The name that died when he was forcefully imprisoned for the powers he had years ago.

            “That’s me. That’s my real name.”

            “What a stupid name…”

            “Leto isn’t much better.”

            “I’d rather you call me Fenris.”

            “I’d rather you call me Anders.”

            “That’s it, then…”

            “I can’t believe of all people, it’s you…”

            “I can’t say I’m glad… but it’s nice to finally know my soulmate.”

            “Let me know you better, Fenris.”

            “I will, if you let me know you better.”


End file.
